


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

by bitter_cat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Constellations, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Stargazing, alternate reality!george, cryptid AU, dream's internal monologue, immortal!dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitter_cat/pseuds/bitter_cat
Summary: "That's the thing," Dream looks at him. "I think I've always been a little bit in love with you.It's scary.""Yeah?"Moonlight caresses the contours of his face, eyes crinkling, dipped in starlight."Yeah."
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 198





	somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tbhyourelame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbhyourelame/gifts).



> just a fluffy one-shot for the cryptid!AU created by the lovely @tbhyourelame! big thanks to them for single-handedly raising my motivation to write from the grave with their skillful writing <3
> 
> -
> 
> title from 'somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond' by e.e. cummings (check it out!)

There is very little that Dream hasn't seen before, an unfortunate side effect of his particular lifespan. But he thinks this scene before him might be the first of its kind he's had the good fortune to experience. He wishes he could stay in this one for a while, wrap himself up in it. In the warmth of the evening breeze sweeping across rolling fields, poppies and marigolds bending and swaying. In the way the moonlight softly illuminates George, his head tilted up, eyes searching the night sky, curious, unguarded, _present_.

Just the two of them, in their own strange little world, keeping company to the stars. He knows how much they mean to George, to find familiarity in their shapes. He wishes they brought him the same kind of comfort, the same joy they once did, so long ago. A time when he was just a child and still had unending wonder for the world around him. How cruel to have that be taken away from him, for them to be tarnished in his memory, reduced to ghosts, haunting him in the corner of his dreams. A reminder of a place, dark, damp, and far, far down the earth.

But here and now, it's just them. The warmth of the night on their shoulders. The sun-bleached grass beneath him. George searching the skies for pieces of another world, constellations familiar in all but names, eyes bright when he finds one.

"There, that one right here," he murmurs. "That's Orion, the hunter that never stops chasing after the seven sisters of the Pleiades."

He moves his hand across the sky, most likely pointing out the second constellation. Dream isn't sure, too distracted, gaze caught on the delicate bend of his wrist.

"He'll never be able to catch one of them though."

Dream gently nods his head, if only to make it seem like he's fully listening, like he's not focused on the way the moonlight bounces off his pale skin, making him look like he's dipped in stardust.

He hears a sigh before he feels his hand being grabbed, lifted up and guided to trace a vague pattern in the sky. His gaze slides off that wrist and up to their two hands backlit by a sea of stars.

"Here, this one should be easy for you, Ursa Minor."

He squints, thinks George's tracing may be slightly off, but manages to make out a vague square shape.

"That's the, uh, the one that looks like a pan, right?"

George lets out a snort. "It's not a _pan_ , its name is Latin for _Great Bear_."

He doesn't know how a square could look anything like a bear, but he guesses that's not the point.

"We just call it the _Grand Chariot_ here."

George turns towards him, mouth open to say something, but closes it, twists it into a frown. He brings their hands down to rest in the grass between them.

Dream so badly wants to tease him for the strange little names he gives the stars, but the lost look on his face stops him. George has always had a peculiar way about him, like he sees the world from a different angle. His surroundings familiar, in a way most things are when they don't quite feel like home.

Dream doesn't think he'd like it if someone pointed out that the way he feels the world is strange, worrying, like it's all in his head and not right in front of him every day.

He notices George's gaze has gone hazy, knows his mind is wandering further away. He squeezes the hand still resting in his. "Tell me about another constellation?"

George tightens his grip, eyes on him, unfocused yet fond. He waits, lets George come back to him. Watches his mind slowly wake up to the world around him.

His eyes drag back up to meet Dream's, a soft smile sent his way. "Okay."

He grins back. "Okay."

George lifts up their hands to gesture at a spot in the sky.

"See that little diamond right there? The star at the top is Vega, the weaver girl."

Dream squints, trying to find a shape within the little packet of stars.

George gently lets his palm glide up, wrapping his hand around his index finger, patiently guides it to point at the spot. He's burning. Wonders what someone would see if they took a look inside of him, if he'd look the same way stars do, collapsing on themselves, endlessly glowing.

"Do you see it?" George whispers.

"Yes."

George drags his finger across, down, down the night sky.

"And here's Altair, the cowherd." Dream can't quite guess which star he should be looking at. "Separated from Vega by the Milky Way that runs between them."

"Separated?"

George lets go of Dream's hand to lean back on the grass.

"The story goes that a god fell in love with a human. But the rest of the gods were furious, that a god would fall in love with a mere mortal, that she would promise to bring him up to the heavens with her. And so a river was carved between them."

"That's—" he hesitates, tries to find a more suitable word but finally settles with the one he has. "Sad."

"Yeah," George pauses. "But once a year, the earth does anything it can to let them meet again. Sending magpies to flock the waters and form a bridge between the two riverbanks."

He wonders how that works, how the birds don't just drown in the rushing waters of the river.

"Is it worth it to be in love if you know you'll never see them again, isn't that scary?"

"It's always worth it," George answers immediately. "That love they shared is something purely them. I think whether they knew it or not, they were always in love with each other from the start. Something in them called out to each other, called them home. How could that be scary?"

"That's the thing," Dream looks at him. "I think I've always been a little bit in love with you. _It's scary._ "

"Yeah?"

Moonlight caresses the contours of his face, eyes crinkling, dipped in starlight.

"Yeah."

George leans in, soft.

"Then what are you afraid of, Dream?"

For a moment, he doesn't think he really knows, until he sees the beginning of an answer looking back at him, with mussed up hair and soft brown eyes.

"I'm _terrified_ of the hold you have over me, how vulnerable I can be with you."

"But isn't that the best part?"

George gazes back up at the stars. He looks beautiful, yet delicate, something about the night highlighting the way time has already a grip on him, beginning to dig its crow's feet into his skin.

_What are you afraid of, Dream?_

It echoes, bouncing back to him against the backdrop of his thoughts. A small drop in a still pool of water, creating ripples. He thinks he sees feathers at the bottom.

_You, you scare me._

And yet, it's not quite true. He's scared about the possibility of him. Of a distant day that steadily crawls forward, where he will no longer have him, to hold and to cherish. The fear is familiar, similar even, to the way in which he grieves the beauty of transient things.

_What are you afraid of?_

It hurtles towards him insistently, again and again, demanding an answer.

_You._

_Me._

_Us?_

He thinks about the end of time that waits for him, the dark pushing back against the light and him being left to float amongst the stars, becoming nothing more than another part of the constellations, a faded story, a lesson.

He doesn't want to be left to become a memory. He knows firsthand how fragile they are. They soften with time, details becoming washed out, like a stone tumbling through the waves, polished beyond recognition.

He feels the ghost of a touch on his cheek, softly grounding him back to reality. His eyes focus and George is there. His thoughts stutter to a stop,

"You have freckles."

The delicate touch leaves an impression of warmth that sinks into him, has him gasping.

"Right here," The hand softly caresses the surface of his cheekbone. "They look like tiny stars."

And oh, he's never been so full of love before, heart quivering to hold onto all of it. His whole body feels like it's burning gold and he can't believe he's lived so long without this, doesn't know how he's ever fallen asleep without George's warmth pressed against his skin.

The tip of those fingers press into him, softly tracing a new constellation onto his skin.

Dream's voice comes out rough. "And what name will you give this one?"

"Dear Heart," he murmurs.

_God._

He hums out a sound, if only to give him time to steady his mind.

"I don't think that's quite a word," he feels the corner of his lips quirk up, teasing.

"Perhaps the name of a star?"

"Definitely not one _I_ would give to a star."

George lets out a sigh, eyes fond.

"Tell me then, what name you would give your star."

He pulls the hand resting on his cheek down to his lap, looks into eyes dipped in starlight and smiles.

"I've already given them a name."

He gently holds his hand close, tracing each finger delicately. He leans forward, brushing a kiss to the corner of his eye, lips tracing the soft laughter lines imprinted on his skin.

"Χαρά μου."

_My joy._

George parrots it back. "Hará mu," tentative, tongue tripping over the intonation, not any less fond for it.

He feels his eyes flutter against the sound of George's voice. Caressing him like a wave.

Soft, brushing against the shore. You could drown in that voice.

"λατρεία μου," he whispers, leaning in.

"Patr—" a stumble, a soft huff. "Patria miu."

_My adored_. My beloved. My love.

My love, _my love_.

And he's leaning in closer again, closer and closer until his bottom lip is brushing against George's top lip, heart full like nothing else. God, he feels young again, back in his first life, the life before he knew what he was. Because everything about this is so familiar yet so new, and he can't take it.

"George," The word is heavy on his tongue, his whole body burning gold.

"You don't have to be scared, I'm here," George murmurs back, and the words wash over him like waves, gentle, so gentle. He lets them, invites them in to drown him, because he knows they're true, and because he's so goddamn in love.

"Are you?" He whispers, close, so close to him that his head is spinning. The breeze brushes over the back of his neck, but he can't distract himself from George sitting next to him, his eyes on his mouth.

"I am," and then George is leaning in again, and kissing him, softly, so gently, just a brush, in a way that makes Dream feel light, likes he's floating. Burning up, becoming a star.

"Tell me you'll stay then?" Dream says after pulling away. He feels a tremor in his hands, he's not sure why.

George opens his eyes, pupils blown up, wide so wide, reflecting constellations.

"Tell me you won't leave me."

George's gaze is on him, heavy.

He knows it's unfair, to demand something that can't be given. But Dream hasn't been selfish in a long time, and he wants to be. He wants to be selfish, so, so much. He's seen all his loved ones carried away from him, to somewhere just out of his reach, left alone to collect memories and names that only he remembers.

He's tired, he's always doing the leaving, and maybe it isn't fair to ask to be the one left behind this time.

George exhales, crawling over onto his lap, laying his head on his shoulder, arms coming up to wrap around him. Hugs him close like he's trying to carve a space for Dream within himself.

"I think at some point you'd have enough of always waking up to my awful morning breath," he says, combing fingers through his hair.

Dream huffs out a laugh, leaning into his touch. "You're an idiot."

He thinks of the unbreachable river that separates the two lovers, thinks he may be the biggest idiot between the two of them. He doesn't tell him that.

"I'd stay," George says suddenly, letting his head rest on top of his, hand coming down to brush the slope of his neck, drifting to his shoulder. He melts. He's in love. "I'd never leave," he whispers into his hair. "Couldn't live with myself if I had that choice and didn't take it".

Dream smiles, brings up his hands to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Their mouths press together again, slow, careful, until George breaks it off, bends down to lay a kiss on his neck, smiles against it when he feels Dream shiver.

George giggles, pressing another kiss there for good measure. "Doing okay there?"

He wants to make a joke, but can only nod, mind fuzzy, and he leans back in to kiss George. He's burning up, and his whole mind narrows down to this point of contact.

And then George is pushing him down, down, down, until his back is pressed to the ground, into the dirt, and his legs are splayed out, George between them, hovering over him. The moonlight in the backdrop making him look ethereal, like something divine. He wants to pray to him, show him devotion. Let his belief be enough to make him a god. Drag him to his side of the riverbank. Let himself burn into ash from the places where George is touching him.

Love is like drowning, he thinks, and for once, Dream isn't afraid.

He'll throw himself into that river of stars, far down the milky way. So that the gods themselves won't be able to reach them.

**Author's Note:**

> my goal was to write something from start to finish and post it, kind of as a warm-up since i haven't written in years. if you enjoyed reading this, lemme know! thanks to everyone from the discord for hyping me up. nothing is more validating than getting yelled at for my writing :)


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